The Last Night
by Joise
Summary: AU. One shot. Chelsea is having difficulty dealing with Zach’s death. Hope hates her and her father is alienating her. She’s alone and feels the remorse of her actions. Max has stood by her and continues to give her reasons and strength to live.


**The Last Night**

By Joise

**Disclaimer: **I do not own these characters. They are property of NBC and Ken Corday. The song title and lyrics are from Skillet's "The Last Night." In short, I own nothing. But as a side note, this song is incredible. This is a little something that was swimming around in my head tonight so I put it to paper.

_Summary:_ AU. One shot. Chelsea is having difficulty dealing with Zach's death. Hope hates her and her father is alienating her as he comforts his wife and son through this process. She's alone and feeling the guilt and remorse of her actions. Somehow community service does not seem to be a harsh enough punishment in her mind…she deserves more for her reckless abandonment that took someone so dear to so many. Max has been there for her through it all, watching as she's been holding on for dear life…wondering, how much longer until she lets go and falls.

* * *

Chelsea walks into the Brady Pub. Her face is hiding under the baseball cap and oversized sunglasses she's wearing as she pulls her tightens the jacket closer to her body. She walks with her head down and her arms wrapped around her body, as if she is trying to shield her body from the harsh elements. But it doesn't work. It never works. She can hear the whispers as she passes by, they are always the same. _"Isn't that the girl who killed her baby brother?" "That's the child killer." "I can't believe she didn't go to jail."_ She tries to block out the noise, but is unsuccessful. They are all right. She killed her brother and she never served time in prison for it. Zach's life was worth more than community services. It should be like in the Biblical times "eye for an eye" as they say. She stops at the bar and tries to hold back the tears as her grandmother walks away from her into the kitchen to avoid her. She can't remember why she came here in the first place.

Chelsea can barely see as the tears are building in her eyes. She turns around and bumps into Max Brady. She doesn't look up, only mumbles an apology his feet. She doesn't even know it's him until she feels his hand softly touch her chin and carefully brings her head up to meet his gaze. "Max," she whispers, her voice is shaking, "I'm sorry I didn't see you there."

"It's okay," Max said, "I wasn't watching were I was going."

She notices his small smile and knows he's lying to make _her_ feel better. She doesn't deserve to feel better. Chelsea flinches back when she sees his hands coming to her face. She knows what he is doing and doesn't want him to see the tears that are clouding her vision. Chelsea drops her face again. She feels his hand under his chin again, demanding she look at him. She gives in to the one person who's stood by her this whole time. Max Brady, only person who cares about her well being as she has given up on herself so long ago. Chelsea closes her eyes as she feels her sunglasses carefully sliding off of her face. It's moments like these that she just wants to scream at him. She's not fragile; she's not a china doll that's easily broken. She's a murder. She feels his thumbs tenderly brush her cheeks, wiping away the tears that escaped.

Max watches her carefully as she drops her head again. He hates it when she does this because it makes her look like a lost child. And he knows in his heart that is exactly what she is, lost and hurting in an unforgiving world. He's given up trying to get her to look up at him as he squats down and looks up at her face. He notices instantly that her eyes are red. His heart tears a little more for this shattered woman in front of him.

"I should go," she said, "I don't know why I came here."

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I'm fine," she said, "I promise. I should just go. I just came to say good bye."

_You come to me with your scars on your wrist  
You tell me this will be the last night feeling like this  
I just came to say goodbye  
I didn't want you to see me cry, I'm fine  
But I know it's a lie_

"You're not fine Chelsea," Max said as he quickly gathered her into his arms and held her tight to his body. "I'm not letting you go. Not like this."

"Why do you bother with me?" she said, "I'm a killer. Everyone in Salem hates me."

"Not everyone," he countered.

"Well you should," she said, "I don't know why you don't."

"Because it was an accident Chelsea," he said, "You didn't mean to…"

"But it still happened." She tried to break herself free from his arms, but he only held on tighter to her.

"You're a good person," he said, "a good person that did something terrible. But it wasn't on purpose. You have to start believing in that."

"I deserve to be punished for what I did," she said, "I don't deserve the slap on the wrist that was given to me. I deserve to suffer and die like Zach…"

"I think you're punished yourself enough," Max said, finally releasing her from his embrace.

"No," she said.

"Yes," Max said as he reached over and grabbed her left hand. With his free hand he pulled up the sleeve of her jacket, revealing the scars on her wrist and arm. "This is not what Zach would have wanted."

"Don't," she said as she pulled her sleeve back down. New tears sprung from her eyes. She didn't know that he knew that she had been cutting herself. But cutting wasn't enough, she deserved more pain….she deserved death. She lowered her head again as she felt his arms wrap around her body again. She gave into the tears and let him comfort her.

"You're not alone Chelse," he said, "I'm here and I'm not leaving anytime soon."

Chelsea looked up and saw the compassion and determination in his face. In that moment, she believed him.

_This is the last night you'll spend alone  
Look me in the eyes so I know you know  
I'm everywhere you want me to be  
The last night you'll spend alone  
I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go  
I'm everything you need me to be  
_

She didn't know how long she had been standing there, how long she had been crying, or how long she let him comfort her with soothing words. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours; she did not know. The only thing that she did know is that she believed in her broken heart that Max Brady would be there with her every step of the way. He might be the light in her darkened world. The sound of the bell ringing broke the spell she was under. She had the misfortune of looking up at the customers walking in to her grandparents' establishment. She was greeted with the cold eyes of step mother and half brother. If looks could kill then Hope and Shawn Brady would have taken her pulse by now. Her father was standing next to them. He resembled a fish out of water as the urge to see what was wrong with his daughter and knowing that if he did, his wife would never forgive him. Bo Brady was stuck in an impossible choice, so instead of doing anything he would remain impassive. It was this impassiveness that is killing his daughter and feeding the fuel of hatred his wife has for his daughter. His silence speaks differently than what it was intended to do. His silence aligned him with his wife, against his daughter.

Max felt her body stiffen and looked down at her. He noticed her gaze was fixated behind him. He didn't have to turn to know who she was looking at; there were only three people who could bring that much anguish to her face. "I'm here for you," he whispered in her ear and held her close to his body as he refused her feeble attempts to runaway.

_  
Your parents say everything is your fault  
But they don't know you like I know you  
They don't know you at all  
I'm so sick of when they say  
It's just a phase, you'll be o.k. you're fine  
But I know it's a lie  
_

Chelsea tried with all of her strength to free herself from his grasp, but he was stronger, always stronger and held firmly onto her. "Let me go Max," she pleaded.

"No," he said, "You're not running away from me."

"Please Max," she said, "I don't belong in this world."

"Yes you do," he said, "You belong here with me."

"I should go," she said, "Please let me go."

"No," he said more firmly.

"You should listen to my son's killer Max," Hope sneered at her, "She doesn't belong in a family establishment since all she does is destroy them."

Max felt Chelsea's body tremble in his arms at Hope pointed words. He briefly wondered who could hurt Chelsea more…herself or Hope Williams Brady. At this time Hope won or maybe it was her passive father who allowed his wife and son to torment his already tortured daughter. Couldn't the man see Chelsea withering away before his eyes? Or did he just not care. Max quickly turned around and grabbed Chelsea's arms wrapping them around his waist. He didn't want to let her go but he had to turn and stand up for her to her _family_. He felt the resistance behind him as Chelsea tried to free herself from the new position but failed miserably. Max wasn't going to let go of her, something deep down inside told him that if he did, he would never see her again. "You will not speak to her in such a manner like that again," Max threatened.

"She only spoke the truth," Shawn said, "That _thing_…"

"She is not a thing," Max interrupted, his voice was dangerously low, "She is a person and your sister."

"She is not my sister," Shawn said, "She is the reason my brother is dead."

"Do you really think that she needs you to remind her of that fact?" Max said in a demeaning voice. Max felt Chelsea try to pull away but he pulled her back to him. "And you!" he said to Bo, "Are you really going to stand there and do nothing while they rip your daughter to shreds!"

"She's fine," Bo mumbled.

Max let go of Chelsea and pushed Bo, "Open your eyes!" he screamed at the older man who was recovering from the shock of being shoved, "She's so far from fine that she's not even in the same time zone of fine!" Max saw Chelsea trying to run past him and her family. He reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling him back to him.

"Just let me go," she pleaded with him again, "I shouldn't be here."

Max saw Hope open her mouth, "Don't you dare," he threatened her; "Don't you dare say that spiteful comment."

"You have no right to talk to me like that," Hope reprimanded him; "She deserves to suffer for what she did!"

"Really," Max said, "Already then. If you want to cast stones at Chelsea go ahead." Max pulled her in front of him, "Let's go Biblical with this one. Wasn't it Jesus who said 'He without sin shall cast the first stone?' That was Jesus right," Max said sarcastically, "And the last time I checked," he said pulling Chelsea behind him again, "none of you were perfect." Max looked over at Bo, the older man seemed to be fixated on something. Max followed his gaze to Chelsea's hand. Her sleeve was up slightly and it revealed the scar on her wrist.

"Leave her alone Hope," Bo said.

Max looked at the older man and was wondering if he finally started to register how _not_ _fine_ his only daughter was.

"Bo…"

"I mean it Fancy Face," Bo said, "We came here to talk to Ma, not cause trouble."

Max wrapped on arm around Chelsea and steered her away from what was quickly become World War III. He took her upstairs to his bedroom and escorted her to his bed. He helped her take her coat off and threw it on his desk chair. He laid down, pulling her with him. He wrapped both arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He felt her back go up and down and his t-shirt was getting soaked with her tears.

"Thank you," she whispered, "I don't deserve your kindness."

_  
This is the last night you'll spend alone  
Look me in the eyes so I know you know  
I'm everywhere you want me to be  
The last night you'll spend alone  
I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go  
I'm everything you need me to be  
The last night away from me_

"You're welcome," he said, "and you do deserve kindness. What happened to Zach was an accident. You didn't mean to hit your brother. I know you loved him Chelse." He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "What you need to remember is that Zach won't want this life for you. He wouldn't want you to suffer like this; he would want you to live your life. He would want you to be happy."

"I don't…"

"If you say you don't deserve to be happy I'll…I'll….I'll do something," Max tried to sound threatening even at his loss for words, "I'm not saying that you'll get over this Chelsea. I know this is something that you will always carry with you. But Zach would want you to be happy and live life. And this burden you carry around with you, stop."

"I can't," she whispered.

"Then give me some of that load," Max whispered back. He just laid there holding her in his arms as she cried her eyes out. Max comforted her through her breakdown of tears and heart ache. He knew this day would come and was glad that it was finally here. The day Chelsea mourned, truly mourned Zach's death. With everything that had happened since his death he knew she hadn't grieved yet. He only hoped that when the mourning period was over, that some of the burden would be gone as well. The only thing he did know is that "fine" would not be a word used to describe Chelsea ever again.

_The night is so long when everything's wrong  
If you give me your hand  
I will help you hold on  
Tonight, tonight_

Time had slipped away from them as he held her as she cried. He didn't say anything. What could he have said? There were really no words in any language, written or spoken, that could bring comfort to her. So he did the only thing he knew how to do. He held onto her as tightly as possible to let her know he was there for her, that she was loved.

_This is the last night you'll spend alone  
Look me in the eyes so I know you know  
I'm everywhere you want me to be  
The last night you'll spend alone  
I'll wrap you in my arms and I won't let go  
I'm everything you need me to be  
_

They laid there in silence after the tears had run dry. "You're a great guy Max Brady," she whispered into his chest.

"Why thank you," he said, "you're not so bad yourself."

"Why are you so good to me?" she asked in a small voice that resembled a child terrified of the answer.

"Because I love you," he said simply.

"That doesn't make sense," she said, "Love doesn't make sense."

"What do you mean?"

"My dad told me he loved me so many times before…you know…and now," she paused, "now…you know. He loves me, but he alienates me. You love me and you smoother me."

"I do not smoother," he protested.

"You smoother," she said, "and I know I put off a front that says 'I hate it' but I do like it. Because I know someone cares about me."

"I do care," he said as he kissed her forehead, "I love you." He paused before saying, "Because you know I drew the short straw on that one," he chuckled at the joke but stopped when he felt her stiffen in his arms, "I'm sorry that was a poorly placed joke."

"Am I a joke to you? Is that what you're saying? Some girl you pity!" She struggled to free herself from him again.

"No," he said with conviction as he held onto her, "Never." It felt like all he did these days was hold onto her tightly for fear she would slip away if he didn't. He sighed, "I just miss your smile and that infectious laugh of yours. I just wanted to hear it again."

"I'm sorry," she said as she stopped fighting him, "but I don't think I'll ever laugh or smile again." She hesitated for a moment.

"Ask me."

"Are you with me out of pity?"

"No," he said, "I'm here because I love you. I know you're not perfect and I know you have flaws. But so do I."

"Mine are…"

"Don't even finish that thought," Max warned.

"Sorry," she said, "so this love thing. It's completely irrational you know that right?"

"Love cannot accept what it is. Everywhere on earth it cries out against kindness, compassion, intelligence, everything that leads to compromise. Love demands the impossible, the absolute, the sky on fire, inexhaustible springtime, life after death, and death itself transfigured into eternal life," Max quoted.

She looked at him confused, "Did you read that from a fortune cookie?"

"No," he scolded her, "It's a quote from Albert Camus." He looked at her blank face, "He's a French author who died in the 60's."

"You know about French authors?"

"I can read you know," he scoffed at her as he looked really offended.

"I wasn't insulting you…" she trailed off when he started smiling. His smile was infectious and before she knew it she was smiling herself.

"I got you to smile now didn't I?

"Get over yourself Max," she said as she laid her head on his chest, "and quickly please. I do like breathing."

"What does breathing have to do with it?" he asked confused.

She looked up at him, "Because your ego is going to suffocate us soon," she deadpanned. Chelsea held her expression for ten seconds before breaking out into giggles.

"I'm going to let that one slide," he said, "Only because I miss that."

"Miss what?"

"Happy Chelsea," he replied.

Her face fell a little, "Max…"

"Shish," he said putting his finger to her mouth to silence her, "let's not ruin the moment." He pulled her back into his embrace and they just laid there in silence. Within moments Max could hear Chelsea's steady breathing as she had fallen asleep, exhausted from the day. Max laid there holding the fragile woman, wondering what tomorrow will bring as he slowly gave into sleep as well.

_  
I won't let you say goodbye  
And I'll be your reason why  
The last night away from me  
Away from me_


End file.
